faderift | CLOSED - Inuition, deja vu, the Holy Ghost haunting you

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CLOSED - Inuition, deja vu, the Holy Ghost haunting you

WHO: Pel and Sina, possibly Salem later
WHAT: Pel has run out of bottles. Metaphorical, emotional bottles. She and Sina talk.
WHEN: Early Haring
WHERE: Skyhold's library
NOTES: Will update.

Pel and Sina have been going through responses from the clans and compiling all the information for hours now, and horribly, it isn't yielding all that much. As many letters as she sent out, only a fraction of the clans have responded so far. Does nobody care? Is she invisible? Would the majority of the Dalish really rather mourn their stolen history than recover it?

After some time, she shoves her work aside and buries her face in her hands, tears of frustration building up.

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With a half-drunk cup of tea on the table beside her and a mound of letters in front of her, Sina was becoming a bit burned out herself. Keeper Thalia hadn't provided much (aside from a list of careful demands and reminders for her First), which was disappointing, but she had at least figured other clans would have some leads. Perhaps not.

She was beginning to drowse over a letter, head growing heavy on her palm, when a sudden movement from Pel caught her attention. She came back to alertness and blinked in surprise at Pel's apparent grief, then immediately rose and came around the table to kneel next to the other First.
"What is it?" she whispered, "is something wrong?"

"I'm going to die like this. Sitting and reading and wondering why I hate something I used to love. Getting nowhere. And when all my friends have given up on me, I'm going to die alone. Looking for something not even the people I serve are going to care about."

She wipes at a tear.

Sina listened, and she watched, wide-eyed. "No... no," she insisted, gently resting a hand on Pel's arm, but for the moment she didn't have the words to convince her otherwise.

"Any evidence to the contrary?" Deep breaths. "I want too many things. I'm too greedy. I want a family and I want to help rebuild our history. If I'm going to rebuild our history, I have to leave my clan. I can't have both. And I know I have to choose the less selfish thing because that's what we Keepers and apprentices are meant to do. Always have to give and give and give and nobody thinks to give anything back."

As an example, she brushes one letter even further away.

Sina was never good at speaking up, least of all when someone was on a tirade, so for a while she simply pursed her lips and frowned and watched Pel thoughtfully.
"...you don't have to do anything alone," she timidly reminded her, "..and... and with so much of your clan here, I don't see why you should have to leave them." She looked down contemplatively. "I don't think it's greedy to want both. It's what so much of our tradition is built on." She smiled shyly. "...if that's greedy, I'm greedy too."

"You want a husband and a hundred children, as well as the resources to piece together mysteries over a thousand years old?" She picks at a letter she hasn't looked at yet before setting her elbows on the table with a huff. "I'm thinking about when the Inquisition is done. When everyone here is disbanded, who exactly is going to give up clan and family to help me chase ghosts?"

Sina's smile died on her lips, and so, it seemed, did any argument she had. She was stung, and she wasn't sure why; perhaps it was that she wasn't sure she wanted a husband. Perhaps it was that she had little choice; she could seek answers or die, probably painfully. She could die whether they found answers or not.
She watched Pel with a troubled expression, still kneeling, her hands now resting on her lap. "I will," she said, forcing a tentative cheer into her voice. There was no lie in her words.

Pel meets Sina's gaze, eyes surprised.

"You'd...you'd do that?"

Sina's own eyes shone with muted pain. "I already have," she said shakily, blinking away a tear. She ducked her head to wipe at her eyes, then looked up again, her expression more firm.
"Our traditions are built on our heritage," she continued, softly but with conviction, "our responsibilities as Keepers will be to keep those traditions alive. It would be..." She looked away, with knitted brow. "...it would be a betrayal of our purpose to look aside from that which could improve the lives of the People."
After a pause, she looked up again, this time meeting Pel's gaze directly.

"If we find answers," Pel says quietly, "if the elves have their own history, it will make it harder for the shemlen to dismiss us. When we were conquered, first by Tevinter and then by Orlais, the first thing they did was suppress our history and culture so we wouldn't seem like people anymore. That's what we're bringing back. More than tradition, we're bringing back our legitimacy. You'll do that with me?"

Sina nodded silently, her expression unusually intense. Despite their age difference, she felt now that she was addressing Pel not as a mentor, but as a peer.

"Yes," she said, and felt no need to qualify the response with further detail. If anything, she was surprised Pel hadn't asked her sooner.

A real smile, nay, a grin. Pel stands and moves to wrap Sina up in a hug.

A quick inhale of breath indicated that Sina wasn't terribly used to hugging, but she gave in after a moment. Her thin arms wrapped around Pel and held her close, the thrum of her mark lightly vibrating through Pel's chest as well.

A light squeeze, and Pel releases her. The vibration reminded her how very delicate a creature she is working with.

"Why don't we celebrate with a drink and a meal? A proper one. I'll buy both, I've some profits from a recent hunting trip."

The conversation had rubbed Sina raw, and she felt a decade older than she was when Pel released her. Her choice wasn't between home and family, and answers: it was between answers or death. She longed for her clan, even moreso now that they had so openly discussed leaving them behind.

"..all right," she said, with a faint smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, "I suppose we could both use a break."

When the talk between Sina and Pel calms, Salem finally pokes his head out from one of the alcoves, frowning some as he takes a step out. He's holding a book against his chest in one hand, leaving the other free to wrap around Pel as soon as he was close enough to do so, his chin resting against the top of her head.

"I don't know about you, but I'm pretty sure I'm going to need help in this whole 'rebuilding the history of Elvhenan' mission," he says mock-casually, keeping his voice low and quiet so the peace of the library wouldn't be disturbed. He glances down at Sina, who he's almost certainly startled (not for the first time, guaranteed) and tips her a soft smile and cheeky little wink, then kisses the top of Pel's head before he reaches down and scoots a couple of the letters, hoping to see if there was one from the Ghilan Keeper yet. "This isn't going to happen all at once though, we both know that. Try not to worry so much, huh?"

Pel relaxes at Salem's touch and leans against him. For the letters he grabs, two are polite letters with sad tidings that they have nothing of use. The other is from Keeper Hawen in the Exalted Plains, and is unopened. It feels a little thicker than most of the letters, something Pel has not noticed.

"Do you always eavesdrop, brother?"

Salem's fingers close on that one and pick it up, turning it over mostly as a fidget.

"Only on matters that seem to involve my family self-destructing," he replies, quiet, teasing. "Really, vhenan. It's not so dire as all of that. Some don't see it as important enough to pursue, so forget them and focus on those intent on helping. It'll do wonders for your outlook."

"People like you and Sina?" She blinks tiredly at the letter in his hand, then frowns. "Who's that one from?"

"If we are the only ones willing to help, then yes, I suppose so. But I really doubt we are the only ones. I know there are interested humans about, even though I really doubt they'd be able to help with anything besides maybe fetching things down off the higher shelves." A joke, but he's starting to calm at least where it comes to the humans around Skyhold. They were dumb, in his eyes, but they had their uses, and none of them had been outright hostile no matter how he might egg them on.

The letter stops turning in his fingers, and he straightens up to read it. "It's marked as Dirthavaren. Keeper Hawen's still there?"

"Katniss knows our history. It's her history as well. I know she'll help."

She peers at the letter. "What's Keeper Hawen say?"

"I know Katniss. We've...talked." Meaning they'd taken the time to knock eachother about the training ring. It was good, at least.

He walks around the table to take a seat between the two of them, using his thumb to open the letter and flatten out the pages on the table. One of them was a large map of the Exalted Plains, detailed with the location of the clan's camp, and locations of ruins around the Plains.

"He has fragments of our history safe with him. He doesn't seem to trust the Inquisition much, but he's willing to pass on what he knows, I think."

"Did he send drawings?" She doesn't sound hopeful.

If Salem looks at the other pages, he will find careful sketches of each rune.

The map is moved aside in case it's been opened on top of anything else of import, and his head tilts. If these are the drawings, they are actually quite simple, elegant designs.

"I'm going to need to copy these down," he murmurs, glancing around for spare blank pages that he might be able to use and then paste into his journal later.

Pel looks over at the sketches and brightens immediately.

"Real information. Now I just need translated texts to compare them to." A faint, almost disbelieving laugh. "This is real, Salem. Progress. I...this is amazing."

She spreads the sketches out to look at them side by side.

"You're absolutely certain these are what we need?" Not that he doubts that they're useful, more that he needs to know for sure before he pulls more books off the shelves to help translate them.

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CLOSED - Inuition, deja vu, the Holy Ghost haunting you

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